Saturday, 31 August 2013

I thought I would upload something from Simon & Garfunkel. I love The Graduate, I watched it for the first time around this time of year, right before I started the last year of my degree, so here is Mrs. Robinson.

It is sunny and windy today. It is not very windy, only a breeze, but a constant one, strong enough to give a slight chill to the air. It is a beautiful time to be outside (so I will not spend much time in here blogging, not until the evening anyway). I wonder if the wind could be strong enough to fly a kite. I actually have one here, but it is not for me: I bought the kite as a birthday gift for my godson and will give him next time I see him. I often worry if he will not find it boring. But growing up, my father used to go with us on windy days to fly his kites. I would do it if I had a kite (for myself I mean) and if I knew the breeze was good enough for it. Maybe it is, but I an no specialist. I have very rarely flew a kite myself. I was more interested about seeing them fly.

Friday, 30 August 2013

As it is my new tradition, I am plugging a restaurant this Friday, and/or some of its menu, a restaurant I often mentioned in my French posts. Tonight, I am plugging maybe Chicoutimi's most important restaurant: Georges Steak House. Well, its proper, real name is Chez Georges, but since it opened up in 1960 the locals call it Georges Steak House and this is how I usually call it, or the Steak House, as if there was only one in the world. Because it is a steak house, although I usually have the chicken. Georges is the perfect restaurant for fatty, greasy food. You can find its menu here in PDF. You can also find it on the individual mats in the restaurant. There is no English version, not for now, but you don't need to know much French, or any at all, to understand the menu. Of course you can also read about it on TripAdvisor, but the reviews are rather mixed. Maybe you need to be from the place to understand the appeal. I have been to better restaurants, but when it comes to honest, simple cuisine, even though it may be somewhat bland in its simplicity, it is difficult to be better than Georges Steak House.

So if you ever visit Chicoutimi and are hungry (because you need to be hungry to eat at Chez Georges), what would I recommend there? Well, in short, everything. My youngest brother usually has a spaghetti meat sauce (basically spaghetti Bolognese), my other brother PJ has BBQ chicken breast I think, or something. We rarely change what we order. My parents are more adventurous. I remember sometimes years ago I used to order the Frankfurter sausage or the cocktail of shrimps as a starter. Not anymore, they are too filling. So for the last few years basically I have as a starter an Oriental salad (no idea why it is called Oriental), which is basically iceberg lettuce, one piece of tomato in a dressing that is mainly vinegar and salt. Then as a main meal, I have the chicken, coming with a thick BBQ sauce which is more a gravy, thick fries and coleslaw (!). Then for dessert, I have a slice of Graham cookies custard pie (the Graham cookies is of course the base). Little lesson of Saguenay measures: when it says one slice of pie, it really means one quarter of a pie. Last time I went there with my father, we were two on said slice/quarter and we couldn't finish it. I wrote a French post about it. I enjoyed a lot my last meal there, which was in February 2012 (so long already), but most of my enjoyment may have been pure nostalgia.

Thursday, 29 August 2013

I have decided to upload this picture of a rowan tree, which I took yesterday on my way back from work. It is of course the picture of a rowan tree. I blogged about rowan trees before, as I developed a certain fascination for them, as they are associated with mythology and folklore. They are supposed to be a protection against witches, which is great, as there is one that lives nearby (I am talking about the evil neighbour who hates cats of course). We have one at my parents' garden which is absolutely magnificent. There are plenty of rowan trees in the little town where I live, I have also seen many in Windsor. It might be a tree typical of the English south.

It is also one of the signs of the upcoming autumn. Trees obviously can be used to determine whether a season is coming or not. I use them to read the signs of changing seasons anyway, like I did recently with a fig tree. When a rowan tree gets his orange coloured (and as far as I know inedible) fruits, it means that autumn is near. When autumn is in full force, the leaves should take the colours of a wild fire. There was also another recent sign of seasonal change: yesterday evening, as I was walking outside, I could smell smoke and fire. Not the smell of a barbecue, typical of but the smell of a bonfire, or a small home fire that was coming from a chimney. There is summer smoke, and there is autumn smoke, both smell differently, something about the context and the atmosphere. In any case, I was happy to see these new signs of upcoming autumn.

Wednesday, 28 August 2013

Well, since we are Wednesday, Wotan's Day, I am publishing another post about his namesake, Odin the wandering cat. Since you all seem to love Odin, I am sure you will not mind. Not that there is much to tell, to be honest: Odin is still around, comes out of his dwelling (the shrubs by the block) every morning, full of twigs and dead leaves, to greet me and every evening he shows up to welcome me back. He is not as camera shy as he used to be, as last weekend he stared at me and did not flinch when I took my phone out to photograph him. That was after I fed him his dinner, rabbit stew and biscuits. He was not keen on cuddles and needed some "me" time, it seems, as he moved away from a few steps, licked himself thoroughly, then looked at me, with his very unique eyes, in something that I identified as irony. You tell me if I am right, but on this picture he seems to be telling me I'm a sucker. He is right of course, but he's so darn cute.

And as a bit of news, one of the neighbours told me he had a conversation with the witch I mentioned here. Basically he warned her not to take away (as she had done in the past) the bowl of water for the cat that he and his wife left in the bushes. He also said that the cat was loved by many and that he was doing nothing wrong and hurting no one, and that the fact that she decided to do the gardening did not give her the right to run the place as her own. She tried to justify it, and justify her feeling of entitlement over the garden by saying: "Oh, but you are just renting." He replied: "We have been renting for nine years here, and our rent pays for this garden too." I would have told her the block is not a boarding school and that she is not a headmistress and that renters are also people to treat with respect (not sure she understands that word). Nevertheless, the answer of my neighbour is worth a mention as a new great unknown line. His second one, in a row. Oh I love the humiliation and little defeats of evil witches! And Odin, being maybe the Norse god in disguise, is a blessing to the whole neighbourhood.

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

I know I uploaded Tuesday's Dead before, but that was years ago. And had not uploaded it on a Tuesday. So as I am feeling very dead after a day of work, this song came to my mind. I comes to my mind every Tuesday, believe it or not, I am that predictable. Cat Stevens had a more profound and spiritual meaning to this song (which he hinted at in this video), but for me it is about the end of a working Tuesday.

Monday, 26 August 2013

I know I used a similar title not long ago. What you can see at your right is, well, figs. I may be wrong, but I think they are figs. Green, raw, unripe figs. I took the picture in a small and narrow street, barely more than an alley, in the way to the library. This alley is maybe my favorite spot in this town, I might blog about it one day and explain why. There is a fig tree in one of the nearby gardens and the branches are so big they cover the walking pavement so you walk for one meter under a green, natural roof. It looks and feels lovely.

But anyway, as you can see, the figs are still green, which is a sign saying we are not quite in autumn yet. Although of course harvest time changes from fruit to fruit. During my trip in Italy, the figs were ripe from late August and early September. They were part of many of my breakfasts there. Every time I walk pass the fig tree, I think of Italian breakfasts.

I hope my readership does not mind if I tease it a bit without showing my feline friend on a post that is about him. This is a picture of Odin's bushes, the dwelling place where he comes around in the garden.He has owners, but I think he spend most of his nights there, sleeping in the bushes. Every morning, or most mornings anyway, when I go to work, he shows up, his fur full of twigs, for an early cuddle. Every evening, or most of them, he is shows up from his hiding place, the same bushes, and asks for a cuddle and of course some food.Today is a bank holiday so I can feed him during daytime. I know he has owners and maybe I shouldn't feed him, but as they have a little menagerie at their home, with a dog and two other cats, and especially as Odin always seems very hungry, I do like most of the neighbours here and feed him.

One of the neighbours the one I mentioned here, is considering putting a small house in there to keep him safe from rain and colder weather. He and his wife already placed a bowl to fill with water so Odin could drink when he is thirsty. Of course, the evil witch (whom I sometimes refer to by another name) who thinks she runs the garden and hates its feline dweller, took it away a few times. She spent a lot of time gardening around and in the bushes two or three weeks ago, trying to reclaim the nest as her own property, but it only kept Odin away the time she spent there. Well, she will be granted her wish in December, until then Odin is welcome. Interestingly enough, his namesake had a dwelling place where he looked at the world around him, an eagle's nest at the topmost part of Asgard. Although this is much closer to the ground, it is pretty much Odin's nest now.

Sunday, 25 August 2013

I thought this blog needed a bit of music. Something not to chase away the melancholy of a Sunday, but to embrace it. So I uploaded another song heard in The Wire, this time the end of season 3. It is Fast Train sung by Solomon Burke. Although it is a cover from a Van Morrison, I prefer the interpretation of Burke I think. Something about his voice. Today I prefer Burke's version anyway. So here it is.

Saturday, 24 August 2013

As I mentioned on this post, I am getting in the mood for Halloween. There is an eerie feeling in the air since yesterday, something that came with the rain. I know summertime will come back again for at least one last blast, but it feels autumnal enough, so I am officially starting to read horror stories. I finished yesterday my last summertime book, and as I struggled to sleep last night I read a few pages of The Howling. I had seen the movie years ago and wanted to read the original. The movie I thought was quite a good chiller. As for the good, so far, so good. It is not great literature and I have seen better prose, in fact the style is a bit flat, but it is nevertheless an efficient 70s chiller. It has been (re)published by Books of the Dead Press. A few years ago I tried to find it on Amazon, and all I could find were old copies at prohibitive prices, so I am grateful for this publisher to make it available again at such a good price. The cover is also very nice.

I guess what got me curious about it, apart from the memory of the film, is that it is about werewolves. I am more into vampires (the old gothic kind) and I usually read a good deal of ghost stories when I read horror stories. Werewolves stories I very rarely read, last time I did was because I stumbled upon one. I wonder if werewolves stories are less common than vampire stories. In any case, I want to extend my knowledge of this horror archetype.

Friday, 23 August 2013

For this Friday, I am plugging, as it is now a sort of blogging tradition, a restaurant or food joint that I particularly love. I have mentioned them time and again before so it will not be exactly something new, but they deserve their own post. I am talking about the bagels of St-Viateur Bagel of course. My first year in Montreal, they were part of my main diet and made me survive starvation. That and pork pies, omelettes and a few other things, but mainly the bagels from St-Viateur, which I had very often as my Friday treat. I used to go to the café on Mont-Royal Avenue, buy a few fresh from the oven, with salmon, cream cheese, capers, bring them back to the apartment, then toast them and eat them with cream cheese, smoked salmon, onion and lots and lots of capers. And a zest of fresh lemon too. Sometimes I ate there too, I usually take the Traditionel (classic smoked salmon bagel), but I also tried the Omertà once (years ago), which from what I remember was quite nice. My youngest brother had the one with smoked meat, which seemed delicious and very Montrealer. You can find the menu here, in PDF format. My other brother and I had them replacing the bun in hamburgers, and they work very well like that too.

You might think I am exaggerating, but Montreal is the place for bagels. Read the reviews on TripAdvisor. Of course, I need to mention that there is also a "bagel war" in Montreal, between St-Viateur and Fairmount. You can read more about it on this BBC News article, which also features a video. I am sold on St-Viateur, but I may be biased because I had my first Montreal bagel experience there and because it was so close to home. In any case, they taste much better than the cardboard donuts they call bagels here. If you go to Montreal, your trip is not complete until you eat a bagel from St-Viateur, fresh from the oven.

Thursday, 22 August 2013

An incipit, as people who studied literature know, is the first sentence of a novel. I quote them on Vraie Fiction from time to time, because some are simply great introductions to great novels. This one is from Goldfinger. It is a flawed novel from Ian Fleming, some people say the movie improved upon it (I think in some ways it did, in some other it did not), but it is nevertheless very well written, full of atmosphere and character. And here is the incipit: "James Bond, with two double bourbons inside him, sat in the final departure lounge of Miami Airport and thought about life and death." What follows is a reflection about the murderous aspect of his job, triggered by the memory of fight a few days earlier with a hitman sent to kill him. The first chapter makes in itself the novel worth a read.

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Last week, two colleagues of mine, one English one American, were discussing about macaroni and cheese.I was not paying much attention to it, but then the American one started laughing as if he had heard the strangest thing. He asked: "Really, you put mustard in your mac and cheese? Who does that?" The British one asked me to take part in the debate and I took his side. The American thought it was a very odd choice of flavoring for the dish. I did not do this when I used to make macaroni and cheese back in Québec, my recipe was with four different cheeses, taken from a book mum bought me for my first year at university. It was quite bland. I guess it was not meant to be high gastronomy. But I discovered a few recipes that do include mustard, and it gives flavor to the dish and fancies it up. With Dijon mustard, it is borderline decadent. Anybody else have mustard in mac and cheese? I wonder if it gives snobbery to the quintessential comfort food meal, but it is really good. In any case, it made for a subject of debate at work.

Tuesday, 20 August 2013

I have learned something very sad today: Elmore Leonardpassed away. At 87, it was to be expected, but it is still sad nevertheless. I have to confess, I was disappointed by Djibouti, but he wrote so many great crime novels. I still remember discovering him with Glitz and being blown away. Elmore Leonard had such... I was about to say talent, but this is such a cliché and so ridiculous to say this about a veteran writer, especially such a prolific writer. Leonard has mastery, skills. He was a maestro of crime fiction. I had wanted to quote his ten rules of writing, I didn't know when, then sadly tonight became the occasion. It sums up why he is so admired:

"1. Never open a book with weather.2. Avoid prologues.3. Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue.4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said”…he admonished gravely.5. Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose.6. Never use the words “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose.”7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.9. Don’t go into great detail describing places and things.10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip."

He also added one to sum up the ten: "If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it." A maestro's words. He will be missed, but his work is immortal (and he wouldn't have forgiven me for this cliché).

1. Never open a book with weather.
2. Avoid prologues.
3. Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialogue.
4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said”…he admonished gravely.
5. Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose.
6. Never use the words "suddenly" or "all hell broke loose."
7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.
8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.
9. Don't go into great detail describing places and things.
10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.Read more at http://www.philly.com/philly/blogs/entertainment/movies/Elmore-Leonards-10-Rules-of-Good-Writing.html#hWkWuKiGWjQv6eMg.99

Monday, 19 August 2013

Maybe I am writing this as a cheap excuse to upload another picture of the Jack O'Lanterns on the house windows of this house I saw recently. Well, not maybe, it certainly is an excuse to upload more pictures. However, like I am sure many of my fellow Halloween aficionados, I am getting in a Halloween mood more and more. It is not autumn yet, but the air in the morning and evening is filled with a bit of a chill that is definitely not summery. It looks and feels more and more like the summer is ending. And it is, of course. But in the evening, there is something vaguely eerie about it. Soon, as soon as I finish reading this novel, I will get started on horror stories. I can barely wait. The Halloween mood starts in late August for me. I read Dracula and The Phantom of the Opera in the middle of summertime and they haunted me until the end of the next season and beyond, I played the Dracula game on a hot September day...Somehow, it is always now that I start thinking about Halloween.

Sunday, 18 August 2013

It usually starts in August, and this is why I sometimes don't like the month. I have blogged about it in French earlier this month. It is often triggered by one trip in the shop. And you are stuck with it: the "back to school" feeling. it got me. Again. There is advertisement everywhere in the shops reminding parents to buy new clothes for their children, furniture to get back to school and reminding me of the end of summer holidays. I know I do not have summer holidays anymore, not automatically, but I have been conditioned since childhood to have the same dreary feeling when I see all this. August is the time to renew your autumnal wardrobe, buy new shoes and gradually start getting into the mood of a new working season. Don't get me wrong, I love autumn. But the days in August leading to it, I often feel melancholic, a feeling triggered by the preparations to the new school year around me.

Saturday, 17 August 2013

I don't want to blog too much about food on such short time period (last time was yesterday), but I have been wanting to plug this restaurant and its burgers for quite a while and I had promised to do so last time I plugged a restaurant/pub. Although I think I did plug the place before, I certainly mentioned it, this is the formal post about what is one of my favourite eating places in Montreal. Since Eurosnack closed down, it is where I usually go for my first meal in Montreal, sometimes for the last one the day before departure. I am talking about L'Anecdote (no website, this is the info you get on TripAdvisor), at the corner of Rachel and Saint-Hubert, at the heart of the Plateau Mont-Royal. It has a vintage American diner look, far from a rarity in Montreal, but L'Anecdote gets it right. It is there, but not too kitsch, and the appearance is not everything: there is quality food too, and especially. Everything I tried there is delicious, especially the burgers. I usually go for the Anecdote #4, which has deer meat and, instead of bacon, smoked bison on top. It just makes the experience very, very unique. There is a range of mayonnaise as well to go with the fries, I usually choose their curry-mayo. So here it is, in a nutshell. Go and try some.

Friday, 16 August 2013

Remember when I used to write about my Friday's sandwich treats? Well, for one blog post, I am reviving the tradition.Today at work, as I usually do every Friday, I went to the sandwich shop where the Italian guy works, to have my special Friday sandwich treat and speak Italian a bit. He was there, all friendly and chatty as usual. Now he greets me in Italian form the start, which is always a good sign. He then offered me something, again in Italian, I could hear pollo and milanese, and I said yes out of curiosity. I love being offered something special from the chef. Well, he is not exactly the chef, but as he is Italian and was speaking to me in Italian and was making a big deal about it, I knew I was getting the royal treatment.

And I did get the royal treatment. Through our conversation, a mix of English and Italian, I understood that the sandwich I had ordered was a polla alla milanese sandwich. Basically, it is, in a baguette, fried chicken in breadcrump, with melted mozzarella on top and mayonnaise with it. It was delicious. The guy (I need to find his name really) also explained to me that it was something his mum used to make for him when he was a child. He had prepared the chicken the night before, soaking it in herbs and what have you. Ironically enough, he is Sicilian. I wonder if next Friday he will try something special. I would be happy with the same thing, this is comfort food at its best.

Thursday, 15 August 2013

Ah, the things you learn when you open your browser on Google sometimes. Like today, first thing in the morning, I see a Google Doodle, and I discover it is celebrating the birthday of Edith Nesbit, or E. Nesbit. She was the author of children's books, such as The Railway Children, which was the one illustrated in the Doodle. It is maybe a lesser known fact nowadays that she was also the author of a good deal of horror/ghost stories, including Man-size in marble. I know nothing about her children stories, ironically enough. But I read Man-size in marble in this anthology. It is a really good chill, a classic ghost story, set fittingly on Halloween night. As it is my favourite holiday, I found the story very fitting for a read in the time leading to the season.

The short story had a strong enough impression on me to make me want to truly discover Nesbit, so as I mentioned on this post I bought a book of her horror stories, The Power of Darkness: Tales of Terror (and by the way what brilliant covers Wordsworth Mystero books have). I will read them eagerly soon, in the upcoming weeks leading to Halloween (I usually start shortly before September). One could find strange that a famous (or once famous) author of children fiction also wrote horror, but to me it did not surprise me at all. Children have a wild imagination and often a sinister one and childhood fears and nightmares feed one's psyche for a lifetime. If one can channel them, they can write magnificent tales of terror. I am looking forward to explore the dark side of Edith Nesbit.

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Well, it is Wednesday so it is just an excuse as any to talk about Odin. I thought it was the end of my time with my feline friend. I thought Odin, now that his owners had found out about his visits to the neighborhood (well, in fact it is the same neighborhood, as they live in the street perpendicular to this one), they would just spend more time with him and that would be it. Only two days ago, I titled my post about Odin The end of the Odin saga?. Well, I was wrong, at least for now.

In fact, not much has changed. Odin is still around, in the morning when I go to work, in the evening when I come back. It was raining tonight and he was still there.He still rubs my feet, he still asks and receives treats, from me and from the neighbours. Except the evil witch I mentioned here, who has been passive-aggressive to everyone who gave cuddles and treats to Odin. She keeps on bitching about him to anyone who would listen, usually passersby, as no one in the block listens to her anymore. Like one of my neighbours said about it: "There is nothing wrong with being compassionate." This is wise, and good enough to be a great unknown line. People here understands this, including Odin's masters. And this is on this note that I want to end this post.

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Remember the beaver's diet I mentioned in January? Twice, actually. It struck me today: I have it again, I mean I crave sugar more than usual during daytime, so much so that I need to control myself. It happened inconspicuously: first it was someone's birthday and he had brought donuts, biscuits and other sweets. I had brought my own breakfast, but of course I had to eat some of course, I mean to be polite. Then today a new colleague, from Germany, came with chocolate cookies and other biscuits and some more desserts, I think I saw some rocky roads. She sent an email, saying it is a tradition in Germany for newcomers in a working place to offer food to everyone. That is one hell of a way to be accepted and appreciated by your peers! The chocolate cookies were delicious. I had them for breakfast with plenty of tea. Everything high in sugar tastes better with tea.

I always have sugaree breakfasts on a working day, but now I am in pure beaver's diet mode. I wonder why, I mean why I crave sugar that much. I think it might be the need to stay awake and alert. Or maybe it is getting colder outside. In any case, I crave it. I think I can keep my waistline under control, if I cut on crisps and I walk a lot, which I do. But I need to remain vigilante. Because a beaver's diet is a very tempting one, but I do not have a beaver's metabolism.

Monday, 12 August 2013

A warning to everyone who love him: I might write more about Odin the wandering black cat, but not as much as I used to. It was a very eventful evening. So as I had mentioned last time, Odin went to the vet tonight. He was a very good boy. A few things were confirmed: he is a boy, he was not a wild cat, even though he was an outdoor cat, he had a chip... but it was a foreign one, the code being much shorter than the British codes and it being not in the vet's database. My imagination ran wild and I started imagining Odin coming from Scandinavia or Russia or something. As if he was really the Norse god in disguise. Anyway, overall it was very reassuring: Odin is a healthy cat who spends a lot of time outside because he loves it and even his left eye, although suffering from something, can still see.

Then, back home, as I was taking Odin out of his cage, a couple walking by and asked if this cat had a weird eye... And it turned out Odin was theirs. They are really friendly people, the man is American and the woman is French, they are from Florida where they bought Odin and two more cats and a dog. So Odin is really a wandering cat, and a well traveled one. Except he is not from Scandinavia, but from Miami. His "real" name is Homer, not because of the Greek poet, but because they found him at Home Depot. It is a good name, it is a fitting name too, but I still prefer Odin. So anyway, in a nutshell, the mystery of the black cat is now revealed: Odin is just a home cat with Bohemian owners, who likes his bit of independence and is friendly to everyone and not shy to accept people's generosity, especially in food form. Their house, by the way, was their house I mentioned before. I was glad Odin had a safe place to go. I wonder why he spends so much time here. But I need to end this post, and this saga, on a sad note (can a saga end on a good one?): Odin and his masters will go back to Florida in sunny Miami next December. They said they cannot endure another British winter. I should be happy he has a home, a loving one even more, with really lovely, warm, friendly owners (one I could even speak a bit of French with). And he even has some cats buddies with him. But I can't help feeling sad. Oh, and they offered me to pay for the vet, but I refused. I mean, it was my initiative, that would have been cheeky to ask for them to pay.

Sunday, 11 August 2013

I blogged recently about the early signs of autumn and now, without even looking for it, I found the very early sign of Halloween. I couldn't believe my luck. Today is a very sunny day, just warm enough, but a nice breeze that cools things down and makes the temperature not only bearable, but pleasant. It is the kind of end of summer day which I love. As I want to make the best of it, I was walking around midday, when I saw this Jack O'Lantern on the top of a window. In fact, there are two Jacks like this, one over each window. (By the way, how do we call this thing, this kind of half circle, protuding bit in some houses?) Of course, it is not a real pumpkin, just a lantern shaped as one, and the owners might keep them all year round, like some people keep their Christmas lights on no matter the season.

All the same, it reminded me that Halloween is coming, and getting closer and closer. I long for it and I am already getting in a Halloween mood, wanting more and more to read horror stories. i know this is August, but I used to feel the same as a child, because thinking of Halloween was making me forget that the school year was also getting closer and closer as August went. This house would be the perfect setting for a horror story. Heck, they have Jack O'Lanterns already!

Saturday, 10 August 2013

I went to the local artisanal food shop to buy myself sausages for tonight's supper. I go there because the sausages are made by a local producers and they are delicious. I mentioned the shop before. They also offer some kind of café service, where they serve coffee (duh!), tea and various cakes. As I was hesitating between various specialties, the shopkeeper was finishing banana bread, and asked me: "Do you want the last bit of it? It's on the house." I already loved this shop for many reasons (quality food at a not so expensive price, and the most delicious pears I ever ate), now I have another one. So I came back home with tonight's meal, which was delicious (Toulouse sausages) and tomorrow's breakfast. Or maybe tonight's dessert. I am not sure yet. But I love getting slices of banana bread on the house. Buying them, I always find it expensive for the size of the slice. But free, I can't complain.

Friday, 9 August 2013

I have not blogged about Odinsince a fairly good bit, as I thought about diversifying the topics on Vraie Fiction. But I know Odin is maybe the favorite topic of this blog, so here is a new one, the latest episodes in the Odin saga. Here is the most recent picture, where I miraculously managed to get his lovely feline face. Odin is very camera shy and always turns his head, often even moves quickly out of the frame, when I try to take a picture of his face. But yesterday, I managed to take one where you can see his eyes. You can see now why I baptized him Odin. He is very akin to his namesake, even though Odin I think had lost his right eye (according to this book at least). Reading the WIkipedia article, it seems that the Vikings were never clear about which eye the Norse god had lost.

So this Odin, my beloved wandering cat, has now been adopted (or has adopted, as cats do), by the whole block. I discussed feeding time with a couple of middle aged people who are also cat lovers and do enjoy feeding him. I say the whole block, except one person: there is a malevolent old lady, who took over the garden when she moved in (even though there is a private business paid to do the gardening), and has been bossing the place around since then, who thinks Odin is a nuisance and has been chasing him down the road when she is gardening. I was referring to her when I wrote this post two years and so ago. I was naive enough to say people were all nice here, even the irritating busybody ones. Oh I was so wrong! Just like I was wrong in my preconceived idea that old witches loved cats. She has been very rude to pretty much everyone showing kindness to Odin. She is my new nemesis. Otherwise, everybody loves my furry friend. The name has not caught up yet, but I think it will. He even made himself at home in the bushes in front of the block, where he hides most of the day, except when he is treated with foods and cuddles. It seems like a safe place when it rains.

I have also decided to take Odin to the vet next week, to see: 1)if he has an chip and 2)if something can be done about his eye. One of the nice neighbours offered me to pay a part of the visit and the possible treatment. If he does have a chip, and thus an owner, I would be very sad, because I would have to give him back (and explain this to the people who fell in love with him here) nevertheless it would be the right thing to do. Even if he does not have an owner, I will probably need to give him up at some point to the Cats Protection Society. As I suspect he is half blind, I won't let him out in the wild indefinitely. But until then, well, sweet Odin is here.

Thursday, 8 August 2013

My fellow blogger Jaz from October Farm mentioned in one of her recent posts that autumn is settling in. It made me very thoughtful since I read this. Maybe it is wishful thinking, but I do think I found some early signs of autumn. I know, it is still early August. But here they are:

-While it is usually hot enough during daytime, it cools down in the evening and in the morning it is cool too. Cool enough to be comfortable with a light jacket.
-At work, I saw in some of the maple trees nearby a few leafs reddening (or blushing, as I like to say).
-There is this cool wind outside sometimes. Not much of a change, but when it blows in the trees it creates such an autumnal atmosphere.

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

I don't know for whom I am writing these posts about Fighting Fantasy Gamebooks. Nostalgic geeks like me, maybe. I finished The Citadel of Chaos, which I will not read again just yet, I found it mostly tedious (as I had feared). Now I am going to walk in safe territory (so to speak) with The Forest of Doom.You can see a very bad picture of the cover on the right. It is the third Fighting Fantasy Gamebook and one that I already read it during my childhood (or my early teenage, I can't remember). The Forest of Doom in question is in fact Darkwood Forest. With a name like that, it didn't really need a nickname. Darkwood Forest is frightening enough as it is.

I know I am going to love this one, for many reasons. You do not have to fight an evil wizard or any kind of magic user, but to find a warhammer which some Dwarf kingdom needs to win a war against trolls. This book is, in fact, a treasure quest. Sure, it is not the Holy Grail, but still, it makes a nice change from killing the big baddie. This book is also thus close to low-level Dungeons & Dragons quests, and actually has an uncanny resemblance to the very first quest PJ, who was (and is) our Dungeon Master, made for us more than twenty years ago (21 to be more precise). I think he was heavily influenced by this gamebook. My character being a ranger, I was like a fish in the water. Which leads me to the other thing I find interesting in The Forest of Doom: the setting. Old network of caves or ancient fortresses might be fun, but gloomy woods have a charm the other settings don't possess. A forest is alive, creeping with life, whether this life is good or evil. It is wild, but you can find the odd shelter, the wood cabin or the hollow tree, sometimes a place to rest, sometimes hiding its own dangers. It is just a great setting for an adventure. So I will enjoy my venture into Darkwood Forest. I know because I did before.

Monday, 5 August 2013

What I really mean to say is that the apples are still green. As you can see on the picture here. I took it yesterday in the garden of a nearby pub. It is a very bad photo from my mobile phone, but you can see apples, very green, so green in fact that they blur in the leafs. I had blogged last Friday about the harvest season that has started with the month of August. I should have added: that has just, barely started. These days it has not felt very summery, if it was not for the green leafs we'd think it is September already. It is not cold, but it is much cooler than it was. There is a certain autumnal feel to this beginning of August. It is fine by me: the heatwave had started to be a bit much and I find the temperature more bearable now. August is in many ways a transitionary month that can go either ways in terms of temperature. That said, we are not in autumn yet. Its quintessential, emblematic fruit, the apple, is not nearly ripe yet.

At last, I found (said) a great unknown line that is not from Facebook. It was pouring today, pouring crazy as if it was a nasty cold day. I don't mind, it will be good for the grass. But as it kept pouring and pouring, and the end of working day was getting closer, we all looked wearily at the window. It kept pouring. One of my colleagues said, philosophically: "Well, there's nothing here that can kill us." To which I reply: "As long as you have gills." If I may say so myself, it was funny.

So again, this is the time of the month when I upload on Vraie Fiction a cover of Detective Tales, because I love good old pulp fiction imagery. Incidentally, I uploaded the one of August 2012 on the very same day. This cover is from the August 1945 issue. It is deliciously sinister, with an image that could belong just as much to gothic horror than crime fiction. You have no detective or male protagonist, but a heroine. The damsel in distress is discovering blood dripping from the sealing, so we know a murder was committed in the upstairs (attic?) room. If there was any doubt, you see in the background a shadowy figure, a cloaked man holding a bloody knife, going down a scale. An evil, ghostly presence. The murderer has seen her, but she has not seen him. Further in the background, you see that it is a dark and stormy night. What can I say? It is a great cover.

Saturday, 3 August 2013

This is a new post plugging a restaurant or a pub (or something on the menu of said pub or restaurant), a tradition which I had started last June. I usually do it on Friday evenings. I have mentioned the restaurant before. If you ever spend time in Manchester, try Felicini. It's an Italian restaurant and Italian gastronomy is my favorite. I ate there only once. It might not be the greatest restaurant, but I enjoyed the pasta dish I had enough to be inspired to make something similar at home. And it's really close to the International Anthony Burgess Foundation. These are enough reasons to plug it... Again.